The Secret Installments of the HalfBlood Prince
by Princess Twila
Summary: "I am Severus Tobias Snape, the Half-Blood Prince." Enjoy the story of Snape from his fourth year at Hogwarts up to his death. A rewritten version of my earlier failfic.  Rated T to be very safe.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. And if you think I do, then get this: I am a poor college student at the moment, and if I owned Harry Potter, I would not be poor or in college. If that doesn't convince you, then get this: if I owned Harry Potter, Dumbledore would not have died, Rita Skeeter would be scrubbing bathrooms under Filch's direction, Snape would not have died, Fred would not have died, HEDWIG would not have died, and the story would still totally work. Not to be rude, but if you still think I own Harry Potter, then sod off.

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><p>Saturday, December 14th, 1975<p>

I, Severus Tobias Snape, write as the owner of this book, the Secret Installments of the Half-Blood Prince. I am the Half-Blood Prince, drawn from my lineage on my mother's side. I am a fourth-year here in the House of Slytherin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

This book was a Christmas present from Lily Evans, a witch in the House of Gryffindor whom I am friends with. Today was our last trip to Hogsmeade before the Christmas break, and she and I bought and exchanged gifts with each other from the shops there. I will use this book to journal my experiences here at Hogwarts. I only hope Lily finds the sugar quills (her favorite) I gave her as wonderful as I find this book.

As I said previously, today was our last trip to Hogsmeade before Christmas. Frankly I do not find the Christmas spirit all that invigorating and exciting as do the majority of the students here; I suppose it has to do with the fact that while they all have their heads up in the clouds, I am a more down-to-Earth student who actually cares about reality. The only joy I find in Christmas anymore is the few moments I am able to spend with Lily Evans. She is a wonderful friend, and I have found that I care for her deeply. Hence why I took the time to research her favorite candy and buy some for her for Christmas.

I did not get to spend much time with her today, as I was off with my fellow Slytherins and she with some fellow witches from Gryffindor…at least she was not with that loathsome James Potter. Honestly, if he were any more obvious about wanting to court her, they'd be proclaiming it in the _Daily Prophet_. Luckily she has the sense to ignore his advances; otherwise I would be off explaining to her her grave mistake instead of writing here, as I am now. I suppose the next time I see her – probably Monday morning in Herbology – I should ask her how her day was. I must also remember to thank her for her gift again; writing seems to help me organize my thoughts and reflect on my decisions in an organized way.

As for now, I must save my writing for another day; I still have an Astronomy and a Transfiguration essay to do, and to be honest, I am mortified that I did not finish them last night with my Potions, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts essays. I will have to be more disciplined with my time management in the future.

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><p>This chapter is dedicated to <strong>Inspired178<strong> for having such faith in me and my story. Many thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Tuesday, February 17th, 1976

I am happy to say that since my last entry I have been more disciplined in structuring my time and ensuring that I make the most of it. The only unfortunate aspect of my diligence has been that I have completely put off writing in this journal since then.

I was recently invited to join the Slug Club here at Hogwarts, an establishment created by Professor Horace Slughorn (the Potions Master) that is for the gifted and/or famous. My ticket into this club was my advanced abilities in Potions, but just because I am in the club does not mean that I am in any way gratified by it. Frankly I find such an establishment to be obnoxious, immature, and foolhardy, and if it were not for the fact that Lily Evans is in the club as well (as well as Professor Slughorn's annoying persistence in tracking down the stellar students here at Hogwarts), I would not go to the club meetings at all. But Lily is in the club as well, for the exact same reason that I am in. I have not had a Potions class with her since I was a second-year, but no doubt her skills are exemplary. She is a highly intelligent student with a passion for learning. Not only that, but she is probably the only real friend I have ever had who cares about the real me and not just what I can give to another person; even my fellow Slytherins to not seem to care about Severus the person but only Severus the Slytherin. Thus, since my time with her outside of classes and weekends is limited due to our being in separate Houses, I have joined the Slug Club for the reason of spending more time with her. Lily does not seem to mind, either.

I must confide in something, for if I do not release this secret, I fear that I will burn up from the inside out. As of the date this entry has been written, Valentine's Day was three days past. I mentioned before that James Potter has a rather obvious crush on Lily, and this past Valentine's Day, he took his ill-advised infatuation to new extremes. He started off the day with sitting next to her during breakfast in the Great Hall, and he pulled a box of chocolates from his bag and presented it to her. I must say, I was most relieved when she picked up her books and left without accepting the chocolates. Throughout the day he continued badgering her with cards and chocolate snitches and other trinkets that magnify the immaturity of his supposed passion for her. But he ended his antics at dinnertime with a rather extravagant show involving casting a spell that twisted some airborne pink ribbons into the words 'Lily Evans, will you be my Valentine?' Once again, Lily refused, and I am happy to say that James Potter is in detention for a week. But what confuses me is why I am relieved that she keeps refusing him. Whenever I see her look at him with a sparkle in her eyes, or when I see them conversing – even if it is bickering – I feel like I am smoldering inside, as if some great dragon is waiting to pounce and devour everything about me in flames. The only feeling I know that is akin to what I am feeling is jealousy. And whenever I spend time with her, I feel as if we are linked with a special bond, she and I. We both are scorned by certain family members, we both are skilled in Potions, we both are intelligent, and we are friends…but what if we are more? What if? Is it possible to love? Long have I pondered this, since I never took stock in love before. And still, I believe…I believe that I am in love with Lily Evans.


	3. Chapter 3

Friday, March 26, 1976

I have not yet mentioned this in my previous entries, but I am not only skilled in the field of Potions, but also in the field of Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as the Dark Arts themselves. I can proudly say that I am the most advanced student in this field out of not only those in my year, but in any of the other years, and yes, I am only a fourth-year. I suppose that it is because of the subject being so fascinating that I have spent so much time studying it, even in my years before coming to Hogwarts. I am the proud creator of several spells already, including _Langlock_, _Muffliato_, _Liberacorpus_, and _Levicorpus_.

But today while I was experimenting in my room during our free time, I discovered probably the most intriguing spell that I will ever create or encounter. The process of creating a spell is very delicate, and more often than not results in an unpleasant vibrating in the wand that signifies the flow of magic being stopped due to an incorrect description. Finding the correct combination of words and wand gestures can be very trying, yet I have succeeded on several occasions. This new spell that I have created is _Sectumsempra_, accompanied by slashing movements of the wand; the exact placement of the wand is unnecessary in this spell as I will reveal in a moment. The result of the spell is a breaking of whatever membrane the wand is being pointed at; I was practicing on my bed drapes, and now I will have to get new ones as there are rents in the fabric all over. It seems that the line of attack follows the motion of the wand, so it is a very versatile spell. I then tried it on my pillow, and I will have to either request one of the house-elves to re-stuff and sew my pillow, or I will have to request an entirely new pillow. I then tried the spell on the fire in the stove in the center of the room, but I only succeeded in disturbing the flames. I finally tried it on the stone floor, and though the spell did not permeate the floor, it did leave scratches that followed the path of my wand (and created an absolutely horrid sound in the process; I must be more careful in the future lest I be discovered). I imagine that if I were to try this spell on a living organism, the skin would be broken and blood would be released, but before I actually try it, I should find a counterspell to undo _Sectumsempra_, since I always try my spells out on myself before experimenting on others. Oh the irony; the Slytherin is now the lab-rat. In the meantime I have a record of the spell here in my journal, as well as in my copy of _Advanced Potion Making_, page 17.


	4. Chapter 4

Wednesday, June 2, 1976

Never before have I thought myself to be a horrible person, even considering others' opinions of me. But today changed all that. I am a despicable, indecent, outrageous excuse of a human being, and I should be tortured on the spot for what I said to Lily. Why, oh why, did I say such a thing to her? I can finally take stock in the phrase 'I wish I could turn back time'; if I could I would, and I would not have insulted Lily in such a hideous way.

It all started off after our Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. I was walking along peaceably when I felt a spell hit me; my books fell out of my bag and I was lifted up into the air by my ankles, my robe falling down around my head. As I was lifted up I noticed that it was James Potter controlling my ascent, and close by him, Sirius Black was egging him on. I have been picked on by those two and retaliated to the best of my abilities each time, but today was just too much; the blood was roaring in my ears and my fury was clouding my mind.

Then Lily appeared…oh, how I wish that she hadn't! I would rather still be hanging in the air, held aloft by James Potter, than have allowed what happened next to happen. Lily tried to stand up for me, and James gave her an ultimatum of sorts: he would let me down if she went out with him. I became even more furious, and when Lily next defended me, I told her that I didn't need help from Mudbloods. Ah, why did I say such a thing! I am an absolute fool! I should never have been born! Ach, blast my eyes; I will not be weak and cry.

What happened afterwards was a blur; James placed a silencing spell on me as Lily glared at me and left. I managed to hit him with _Sectumsempra_ and, since it was not verbal, did not achieve its full potential. James succeeded in taking off my pants for everyone to see, and, after placing a full-body-bind on me, allowed me to drop to the ground. Then they took my pants and threw them into the lake. Some of my fellow Slytherins finally came by and released me, but even more than my humiliation was the fact that I had lost the respect, care, and trust of the one friend who has always stuck by me. I have ruined our friendship. I love her; how can I be worthy of her when I treated her the way I did? I cannot live without her…

_Later this evening_

It is over. I am now the most despicable person to walk the face of the Earth. Lily hates me. _I_ hate me.

I tried to speak to Lily at dinner, but she would not even glance my way. I tried to catch her after dinner, but she kept evading me. I finally followed her to the Gryffindor dormitory, and I vowed to sit out in the hallway until she would speak with me.

After several of her friends told her of my perverseness, she finally came out to see me…she looked beautiful, with her flaming hair just brushed for bed and a soft white nightgown on. Her eyes, though…they were lifeless. Her disgust with even having to look at me dulled the life in her eyes. I wish that I could light the fire in her eyes again…but she has made her intentions clear. I tried to apologize to her, but she, while accepting my apology, has told me that she cannot be as close to me as we used to be. By calling her that horrible word, I ruined any chance of having a relationship with her. By the end of our discussion, she allowed that we could still talk, but we will never again be the best friends we used to be. How is it that one word can ruin the most wonderful thing in the world that I had in my life?

I ruined my life by calling Lily Evans a Mudblood; never again will I use that word. I hate it even more than I hate myself.


	5. Chapter 5

Wednesday, June 9, 1976

_If I could turn back the river of Time,_

_If I could change but one moment,_

_If I could reach back and help you forget,_

_I would._

_If I could take back what I said,_

_If I could mend the rift between us,_

_If I could grasp that which we had before,_

_I would._

_If you could see how much this means to me,_

_If you could help me wipe the tears from my face,_

_If you could heal my broken heart..._

_I do not know if you would._

_And I would not blame you if you did not._

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><p>So yeah...I don't really quite know why I did this one as a poem-ish thing, normally I tend to stay away from poetry since I suck at writing it, but I felt pretty good about this one. Hope it doesn't offend...<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday, July 31, 1976

In the past, I had always looked forward to summer and the moments it brought for Lily and I to be witches and wizards together in private. Now, though, with our friendship in ruins, I find myself morose and alone for the first time since I met her before we ever started our education at Hogwarts. She and her sister still play together in the abandoned lot at the end of the lane in Spinner's End, but her sister has always had trouble accepting Lily's gift of wizardry. Their relationship has been strained since Lily first discovered her gift, and though they can be civil towards each other, Petunia will never understand Lily the way I understand her. I have returned to spying upon them, something which I have not resorted to since before I met Lily, and I regret every moment of it. I just want to make sure that Lily is alright, even if it reduces me to such lowly standards as prying. I miss her; I am so close, yet I cannot touch her. However, I cannot blame her; she was just in her decision, and it was my own fault that our friendship has crumbled.

I have taken it upon myself to continue with my studies in the Dark Arts as well as the defense against them in my spare time, and I am happy to say that I am now free to use _Sectumsempra_ on anyone whom I wish. Admittedly, I did use it on James Potter earlier this year, and if I had been able to say it verbally, then James Potter would be no more; he would have bled to death and left behind nothing but a shell. Though I would not have been sorry for not knowing the countercurse, it is good for me to have finally figured it out. The incantation is _Vulnera Sanentur_, and the wand must be trailed over the marks left by _Sectumsempra_. The countercurse only closes the wound, however; it does not replace lost blood.

While on the subject of the Dark Arts, I have undertaken the task of producing a corporeal patronus. For the first two days I was only able to summon a silvery cloud, but on the third day of my efforts, I reaped the benefits and produced a true corporeal patronus. We will not learn patronuses until later this year in our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. However, having done some background reading on patronuses, the animal produced in the patronus is supposed to reflect some outstanding characteristic of the spell caster. Upon hearing this, I had hoped that my patronus would perhaps be a fox for cunning, or a raptor of sorts for intelligence, or a snake for being a Slytherin, but my patronus was none other than a doe. I will have to wait and see why exactly my patronus is a doe since I do not have the necessary books at my disposal for research. Until then, I will remain alone here in Spinner's End.


	7. Chapter 7

Monday, August 30, 1976

Nearly three months have passed since the incident that tore Lily and I apart, and we leave for Hogwarts two days hence. I have not been able to work up the courage to speak to her over our summer break, but I must speak to her again. I must find a way to show her that I regret every day the words I spoke to her…but I am getting too hopeful. I cannot expect her to come running back to me like a lost puppy; she is so much more than that. There must be some way for me to show her what she means to me; my feelings for her have not changed.

I now know the meaning of the doe patronus that I produce.

The other day, I was spying on Lily; for the first time this summer, she was alone and entertaining herself by the tree that she and Petunia normally play by. She was working on her summer homework, and, like me, was working on producing a patronus. She must have been practicing it in her spare time before she arrived by the tree that day, for her attempts were quite good – though not as good as my own, if I may say so myself. However, after several tries, she produced a corporeal patronus…and her patronus was a doe.

The books that I have read about patronuses have told me that the patronus reflects some highly prevalent quality about the owner of the patronus; this quality can be bravery, wits, strength, loyalty, protectiveness, and other such traits. One of the qualities they mentioned last, however, is the quality of love. The book states that sometimes one's love for another person is so great that the owner's patronus takes the shape of the loved one's patronus. When I read this, I was astounded that my love for Lily apparently runs so very deeply. Even I had not expected it to be of this magnitude. I am not yet sure what I think of this…after all, there is no other explanation for my patronus being a doe.

On a side note, I believe that I will be hiding my writings in order to protect them, so I might not be able to write as often as I would like to. My father found me writing the other day, and as he is never happy with anything that I or my mother do, he yelled at me and scolded me. Admittedly, he will not be with me at Hogwarts two days from now, but I shudder to think of what might happen if one of my fellow Slytherins were to find my writings. For my own sake and for the sake of Lily, I will have to be more careful.


	8. Chapter 8

Many thanks to my new beta-reader, **Inspired178**! GO CHECK OUT HER STUFF IT'S REALLY GOOD!

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><p>Sunday, September 5, 1976<p>

I can already tell that this year is not going to go well at all. Lily has told me that her resolve from last school year when I spoke last to her is the same, and I was caught writing by my fellow Slytherins (though I was able to keep the contents of this book away from their prying eyes). Nothing short of Lily going out with James or being sorted into Gryffindor would be able to make this school year bode more ill than it already does.

I was able to speak with Lily after the Opening Feast on September 1st, trying to plead with her that we might still be friends. However, she told me that she cannot stand up for me anymore; my fascination with the Dark Arts is apparently a bad thing to her. She does not understand how I can be friends with others of my disposition towards the Dark Arts, and she told me that unless I give up my fascination, she and I can no longer be friends. I am not sure as to what she believes is so wrong about the Dark Arts, but they cannot be as bad as she is making them out to be. However, this might cost me any chance of renewing my friendship with her…I told her that I would have to think about it. How can something so beautiful be so wrong?

The Ministry of Magic has declared a new spell to be placed upon all wizarding children in order to keep track of and control the use of under-age magic. It seems that the spells I did over the summer for my homework are now illegal, as the use of magic for all under-age wizards is now illegal unless in the care of experienced witches and wizards. This new spell will be called the Trace, and if I should use any bit of magic while I am on summer vacation while I am away from Hogwarts, I shall be reprimanded by the law. I understand the necessity of supervising under-age magic since it is so unpredictable, but that is no reason to punish those of us who are advanced. Yet no matter what my opinion is, I will be forced to bear this 'Trace'.

I believe that I will never again write in this diary; today was the second time I was caught with it – the first being with my father over the summer, the second being today by my fellow Slytherins, Mulciber and Avery – and they very nearly saw the secrets contained within. In order to protect my secrets, I am closing this journal forever.

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><p><strong>Me:<strong> So don't worry, folks, I only needed an excuse for Snape to get away from the diary for a little while, otherwise there would be so many entries that it would be too long. Snape will come back and keep writing, won't you Snape?

**Snape:** I cannot believe I got roped into this. By a MUGGLE no less!

**Me:** ...I'll take that as a yes. -_-

**Snape:** But you're a Muggle!

**Me:** Actually, I got sorted into Hufflepuff. So HAHAHAHAHA.

**Snape:** What is a Hufflepuff again?

**Me:** *facepalm*


	9. Chapter 9

Wednesday, June 14, 1978

It has been nearly two years that this book has remained at the bottom of my Hogwarts trunk. I recall writing that I would never write in this journal again, but this is the only source in which I can confide that will not ridicule me or judge me for my feelings.

It was earlier today that I received an invitation to the wedding of James Potter to Lily Evans, to be held at the end of this month.

I cannot understand why I would be invited; James and I loathe each other, and I did not believe that Lily's and my friendship had healed enough for her to invite me to her wedding, especially her marriage to the man who caused me to lose my temper and thus destroy any hopes of my happiness with her. I wonder if it could be some cruel joke, but it could not be so; Lily would never stoop so low as to taunt another person in pain.

They have been going out since the beginning of our seventh year at Hogwarts, or since September of 1977. It turns out that the reason Lily's patronus is a doe is because James's patronus is a stag. I can only say that I still love Lily, and I always will, no matter whom she marries; my patronus is still a doe. I only wish her to be happy, and if she finds that happiness with James Potter, then I wish her all the best. I cannot, however, bring myself to go to her wedding.

I and a few of my fellow Slytherins, upon graduation from Hogwarts earlier this month, have been accepted into a new order led by a man calling himself Lord Voldemort. This man has set out to gain a following of witches and wizards who believe in the purity of blood, and once he has gained a large enough following, he plans on cleansing the wizarding population of any and all bad blood – blood tainted by Muggles – and subordinating the Muggle population to the wizard population. He is highly skilled in the Dark Arts, a subject which I myself am most fond of, and I find that I agree with his ideals. My fellows and I have joined the ranks of his followers, whom he calls 'Death Eaters'. We are marked by a symbol on our left forearms of a skull with a snake emerging from the mouth. I have already had the honor of meeting Lord Voldemort; he is a dangerous man to cross, it seems. He is extremely powerful, and he has promised us all a great reward in the world he dreams of creating. I am excited as to the prospect of a world in which I will be able to explore the Dark Arts in greater length, and a world in which Muggles like my father will learn their true place.

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><p>Once again, folks, Snape'll be taking a slight break for a couple of "years" from writing...he's more used to wielding a wand than a quill, let alone a Muggle keyboard. I just need to make sure that this fanfic doesn't get so insanely long that no-one will even start reading it from the beginning. Remember to R&amp;R!<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you again to all of my wonderful readers for waiting for me to get this done! And many thanks to my beta-reader, **Inspired178**, for fixing my mistakes and rooting for me throughout this process! And thanks to **Inspired178** again for catching me uploading the wrong chapter...oops! For those of you that accidentally saw a chapter of another story I'm writing in conjunction with this one, sorry! Please don't hate me! Anyways, enough tangent...Since I haven't said it in a while, go check out her stuff! It's quite good!

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><p>Friday, April 18, 1980<p>

A man is never truly cornered until he has been cornered between loyalty and love.

I cannot describe the anxiety, hopelessness – even fear – that I am feeling as of now. I needed someone or something to confide in, and during my search I found this diary, which I had thought to have been destroyed after I wrote the last entry. Thus, I find myself reopening its pages to confide in it once again.

It all started the several weeks ago when I was spying on Albus Dumbledore as I had been assigned by the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was meeting up in the Hog's Head Pub with a prospective Divination teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a woman by the name of Sybill Trelawney. Lord Voldemort had received a tip that the Order of the Phoenix would be planning at the place where I was spying, but it merely turned out to be an interview for a teaching job. At least, that was what I was thinking as I turned at the top of the stairs to leave.

What stopped me was a weird voice coming from the secluded room where Dumbledore and Ms. Trelawney had been. I listened closer and actually heard the woman delivering a prophecy: "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…" Unfortunately, the barman caught me eavesdropping at that point and threw me out. I must say that I was actually grateful then and there that I had been caught. I was slightly terrified, not only because there was a possibility that the Dark Lord and his ideals would be conquered, but also because I could hear the power in the woman's voice. There was a deep magic connected with the words she spoke and the voice she spoke in…oh, that voice! Its memory still sets my skin crawling and turns the atmosphere of the room colder than even I like it to be.

Naturally I went straight to the Dark Lord with this information. While he was not only displeased that we had not caught anything about the Order of the Phoenix, I shudder to remember his rage that someone could possibly conquer him. He ordered that we immediately begin hunting for wizarding families – it had to have been a wizarding family in order to have defied him three times – that were expecting a child at the end of the month of July. The result was that two families were expecting a baby boy at that specified time. One family is the Longbottom family – Frank and Alice Longbottom, the Aurors, to be exact. The other family is the Potter family…James and Lily Potter.

As soon as I heard that the Potter family was targeted I went straight to the Dark Lord and begged him not to harm Lily. I told him that he could do whatever he desired with James and the baby once it arrives, but that it was imperative that he not kill Lily. It did not take him very long, of course, to figure out that I am in love with her. He eventually did agree not to harm Lily, but I know the ways of the Dark Lord; if she gets in his way at all, he will not hesitate to kill her.

I have been having thoughts of going to Lord Voldemort's enemies – mainly Dumbledore since he is the only wizard more powerful than the Dark Lord – and telling him of Lord Voldemort's plans. But doing so would betray the order that I have pledged myself to, that of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

I am indeed a man caught between loyalty and love.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you all for waiting for this! I'm sorry it's taken me so long...I'm chalking it up to a busy schedule and writer's block, but I shouldn't be making excuses, I should be writing! Well, here's to a back-to-normal writing schedule! Enjoy!

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><p>Friday, June 13, 1980<p>

A decision has been made. My course of action is set. There is no turning back.

When I was young, I remember scoffing at the love-struck fools who went to extremes to prove their love. Now I have betrayed my common sense and have turned into one of them. I have turned against Lord Voldemort and his ideals and have allied myself with the one man who can protect the woman I love.

I have allied myself with Albus Dumbledore.

I have long since resigned myself to the fact that I will always love Lily Evans. While the fact that she will never return my love makes me bitter, I am unable to feel any differently in my love for her. Because of this, I am risking being discovered by Lord Voldemort in telling Dumbledore of the Dark Lord's plans to kill the Potter family as soon as the baby they are expecting has been born.

Dumbledore put me through several examinations to be sure of my intentions and the truth of what I was saying; if I were in his shoes, I would have done no less. As it is, Dumbledore has sworn me to secrecy and urged me to stay in the Dark Lord's favor in order to keep passing information to the Order of the Phoenix. Becoming such a turncoat has made me even more bitter than I already am. However, if it protects Lily Evans (though I could not care less for the fate of her husband and unborn son), then I will do it. I must.


	12. Chapter 12

Monday, December 21, 1981

When one's reason for living is taken away from them, one is left as an empty shell. It is no longer up to the shell to define its own existence, and it is left to Fate to be used for the needs of others.

It has been 2 months since the death of Lily Potter at the hands of the Dark Lord, and my heart has not yet resumed beating. My sole reason for living sacrificed herself out of love for her son, the boy Harry who has the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. I will try to go into an account of her death – I need to try and release some of the pain – but I do not know if I have the strength to. Lily, if you can hear me, lend me your aid.

Last year, after I came to the Order of the Phoenix with the planned homicide of the Potters at the hands of Lord Voldemort, the Potters set up a Fidelius Charm around their house in Godric's Hollow with that bastard Sirius Black as their Secret-Keeper. I do not know how the man had us all blinded; he even fooled a man who had known him for over ten years. Black, after some time, went to the Dark Lord with his information, and on the night of October 31, 1981, Lord Voldemort found the Potters in their home and murdered them. He killed Potter at the doorway of his home, trying to wandlessly defend his wife and son. Then he went to the nursery, where it is said that he offered Lily her life if she would just step aside. But her unyielding love for her son kept her from doing so, and Lord Voldemort slaughtered her where she stood.

I wish that I could have been there, to defend her and take the curse that was meant for her. After killing Lily, Lord Voldemort turned to Harry and cast the Killing Curse upon the boy. And somehow, a wandless, defenseless, one-year-old wizard survived and defeated one of the most powerful wizards of all time. Lord Voldemort was left dead in the place of Harry Potter. Dumbledore suspects that because Lily died to protect her son, she created a Love Shield of sorts that prevented the curse from harming her son and rebounded the curse upon the caster. No matter how much I want to, I cannot find it in myself to blame Harry Potter for the death of Lily; it is not his fault that he was born. I am left only with blaming Lord Voldemort for her death, Sirius Black for betraying the Potters, and myself for ever having reported that accursed prophecy to the Dark Lord. It is my fault that Lily's body now lies cold beneath a tombstone in Godric's Hollow.

I will never forget that Halloween when I lost my reason for living. I had never before been to the home of the Potters, but I can imagine that Lily gave the household a beautiful, lively atmosphere. In the doorway was the dead body of James Potter, my nemesis and sworn enemy. The house was silent, cold, and unforgiving. I could see the flashes of lightning through the windows, but all I could hear was the frantic beating of my heart. I walked up the stairs, fearing the worst as I followed what were surely the footsteps of the Dark Lord. The nursery greeted me with a sight that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Harry was alive; Lord Voldemort was dead, spread-eagled on the floor; and Lily Evans was dead. Her copper hair obscured her face, yet it did not stop me one moment from knowing her at once. My heart shattered, and I do not remember how I ended up sitting on the floor, clasping Lily's cold body to my breast with my tears dripping onto her face. Her eyes were still open, though the magnificent emerald color had dulled with death.

I do not know how long I stayed there, sitting on the floor. I imagine I would have stayed there, holding Lily, until they had come to take Lily away. What snapped me out of my trance was the boy, Harry, crying in his crib. It was not his cries that alerted me; I was deaf to the world. It was the flashing of his eyes. The boy is the spitting image of his father, except for his stunning, emerald eyes which he surely got from Lily. I was trapped by the color, so much truer than any green ever associated with even Slytherin House. At this point I released my hold on Lily and returned to Dumbledore. I could not bear to be so near the boy; though he has his mother's eyes, I could not bear to be so near a representation of her when the wound her death had left on me was yet so fresh.

I have not the strength to continue that narrative. Let it be said that when Lily died, a part of me died with her. All that is left is the shell of Severus Tobias Snape, to be used for the needs of others until the day the rest of me dies.

The months since Halloween have been rather harrowing. Upon going back to Dumbledore, I told him that I was contemplating suicide. Somehow he persuaded me otherwise, telling me that my new reason to live is to honor Lily's memory by helping to keep her son alive. Dumbledore believes that the Dark Lord is, in fact, not dead, and that when he comes back he will seek out the boy to kill him for good. No other reason for living can replace Lily; hence, I am only resigning myself to my fate of being used for others. I doubt that I will ever like the boy, but by God, if I can repay to Lily the wrong I committed in reporting the prophecy to the Dark Lord by keeping her son alive, then I will devote my life to the cause.

On a side note, I and my fellow Death Eaters have mostly all been caught and tried since the Dark Lord's downfall. Many pleaded the Imperius Curse (the cowards), and just as many were sent to Azkaban. Dumbledore spoke on my behalf, saying that I had been a double agent for him. I am somewhat grateful for his intervention, but nothing in this life has any meaning for me anymore.

What truly makes my blood boil is the trial of Sirius Black. After the fall of the Dark Lord, he sought out Peter Pettigrew – his one-time friend in the foursome he and Potter had going along with Remus Lupin – and killed the man, killing several Muggles in the process, as well. His sentence was unfair, to say the least. A man of his wrongdoings should have been given the Dementor's Kiss immediately. Instead, he was only sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban. I am angry at the justice system in the wizarding world that it would dare to let a man who was partially responsible for the death of one of the most wonderful people in this entire world get off so easily. I can only hope that Black is tortured by some of the most horrific nightmares known to man while he suffers his retribution in Azkaban. If I thought that I hated him before, it is nothing compared to the agonizing hatred that burns within me now.

It is now time for this shell to return to his post. I do not know if I will keep writing in this; seeing the memories included within are painful. I regret that a shell has the capability of feeling pain; if only my reason for living were alive so that I could once again experience the happier emotions of life.

Once again, people, don't worry! Snape'll keep writing...otherwise I'm going to cast another cheering charm on him for saying that there's no such thing as a Hufflepuff!


	13. Chapter 13

LOOK AT ME, I'M UPDATING! I am so sorry for not updating for 3 months (on the dot, actually, lol)...things just caught up with me. Thanks for sticking with this story! We're finally on to the school years! Just a reminder...I have something SPECIAL planned for the ending of this diary! It'll make you cry!

* * *

><p>Tuesday, June 16, 1992<p>

Ten years. Ten long, miserable years. Dumbledore says that I have become a sour, cynical person in those ten years and that I need to stop focusing on the wrong end of the skrewt, but such words are meaningless. There is no hope for an instrument of Fate; I have long since resigned myself to this fact.

Starting with my most recent entry, for lack of a better description, I had vowed to never again write in the pages of this journal. However, I quickly found that I needed an outlet to organize my thoughts, yet by this time, I had misplaced this journal among my teaching instruments and other possessions here at Hogwarts since I had recently moved in to assume my role as Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. Until I found this journal, I had been using the Pensieve I had purchased in Hogsmeade; however, I can feel myself relaxing more than I have in years by taking the time to order my thoughts and write them down. A Pensieve is good for a quick recollection of memories, nothing more, whereas a journal facilitates a purging of the emotions associated with the memories.

These past ten years have made me a bitter person, knowing that it is entirely my fault that the woman of my dreams lies cold in a grave in Godric's Hollow. During the summers I took to decorating her grave with anemones and red and yellow roses, signifying the emotions I still feel for her. It seemed as though my life had entered one monotonous, dreary cycle, always waiting for something to draw my attention and break the cycle. I have, however, no hope for happiness.

This past September brought the distraction I needed, and yet I still wish it had never happened. This past year, Lily's son Harry Potter entered into his first year at Hogwarts. He has Lily's shining emerald eyes, but in every other aspect he is just like his father. He is arrogant, attention-seeking, idiotic, disrespectful, and in complete disregard for any and all rules. His homework is atrocious, his attention span in class is shorter than a flobberworm, and he has somehow hoodwinked all the other professors into believing him to be guiltless even while not innocent. He has weaseled his way out of so many reprimands that I have become disgusted by the performances of those whose duty it is to keep these students in line. Needless to say, the relationship between Harry and I is akin to the relationship I had with his father. Fate is doubly cruel; not only is Lily gone, but it seems as though James is still here to haunt me.

Lord Voldemort made an appearance this past year in the form of a leech on the soul of Quirinus Quirrell, the professor who came in to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. (On a side note, I would like to point out that we have not yet had a professor who can handle the post for more than a year. Tabitha Longbanks was bitten by a kelpie, which she seems to be quite allergic to; Roman Leare was found having an affair with a seventh-year girl; and Dumbledore fired Gregory Blackstrade for automatically failing all of the students in all of his classes. Perhaps if I were to take up the post, we would have more luck in having not only a satisfactory teacher but also a teacher who returned to the post at all.) The Dark Lord was found trying to break into the vaults of Hogwarts in order to steal the Philosopher's Stone and drink the Elixir of Life. Dumbledore had warned me that Voldemort had not truly been killed ten years ago, but it never really hit me until there was definite evidence that he had returned somewhat. Of course, reckless Harry took it upon himself to try and stop the Dark Lord; really, it's amazing he survived as a baby, but to tempt Fate a second time at so young an age is patronizing. I feel as if he will constantly be surrounded with near-death experiences.

I will admit that I took it upon myself to save his life once this past year. At the first Quidditch match of the season, between Gryffindor and Slytherin, Professor Quirrell hexed Harry's broom so that it would buck him off in midair. At the time, I did not know who was casting the curse, and I merely performed the counter-curse in order to keep Harry alive. Dumbledore talked with me about it afterwards, and he is under the impression that I tried to save Harry's life in order to settle my debt with James for saving my life in our fifth year at Hogwarts. I, however, have never felt indebted to James. He merely did not want to commit murder upon a fellow student, for I would either have lost my life entirely that night or I would have lost my humanity. But no, it was not for James' sake that I saved Harry's life. I saved him for Lily. Always for Lily.

Always.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey look at me, I'm updating! I could make the excuse that Snape went on a temporary hiatus, but I really don't have a good excuse other than I didn't really prioritize my writing over my school work...this year of college was a LOT harder than last year! I now have a lovely beta-reader, Inspired178, who will help to keep me accountable for updating on a regular basis ;) I will hopefully be updating every Wednesday. Thank you all for sticking with me!**

Friday, June 11, 1993

Sometimes I worry that I am becoming obsessed with the entire Potter family. I still loathe James, not just for the bullying, but also for stealing away my one hope for happiness; I am stuck with his irrational, irresponsible, absolute lunatic of a son; and I can never forget the cold fact that I am responsible for the death of Lily. The thoughts of the three Potters fill all of my waking moments, and haunt my dreams. I find no rest in this unbreakable cycle of emotional turmoil.

I now turn my thoughts to this past year at Hogwarts. As per usual, the year was not unbroken by discord. It started out with a supposed return of the Heir of Slytherin, who, according to my prior knowledge, is supposed to come and cleanse Hogwarts of all who are unworthy to study magic. My own personal anecdote of this is that while I agree that schooling is not for every student, as some are clearly more adept than others, all witches and wizards should have some amount of training so as to not be a danger to themselves and others. This is not sentiment; it is common sense, a useful tool that I pride myself in utilizing as I watch others ignore it. But no matter; the Heir of Slytherin had returned, and the monster from the Chamber of Secrets had struck on several occasions throughout the school, though there were no deaths this time (the Heir of Slytherin had appeared once before, back in 1943, and a student was killed during that rampage).

This last bit I have heard many versions of, mainly from my students in Potions and in Slytherin House; I will share only the details that were entrusted to me by Professor Dumbledore. Apparently the Heir of Slytherin was not a current student at Hogwarts, as had previously been assumed by the staff here and the students. The Heir manifested through a sentient entity of the Dark Lord, a diary, to be exact...somehow the Dark Lord was able to imbue an inanimate object with his consciousness and therefore act through another sentient being. As it was, the Dark Lord possessed the young Ginevra Weasley, the youngest of the Weasley brood (and every one of whom I have had the misfortune of teaching). Dumbledore says that Harry Potter followed Ginevra into the Chamber of Secrets and, using the Sorting Hat which has hidden the Sword of Godric Gryffindor for Merlin only knows how long, killed a basilisk, the creature of which the Dark Lord controlled through speaking Parseltongue. The planting of the diary in the possession of Ginevra Weasley came as a courtesy of Lucius Malfoy; honestly, though I respect the Malfoys as I must considering they are a pureblood family of great standing, I am constantly astounded at their acts of stupidity, from those of Lucius to his son Draco. I am not averse to being in the company of the Malfoys, though like every other former pleasure in my life, I find no peace nor happiness in it. Yet all the same, I do not envy what the Dark Lord will say to Lucius if he does return. I must stake my hopes on the Dark Lord not returning, though Professor Dumbledore chides me for such idle hopes.

And so it was that another year at Hogwarts came to an end. I was forced, at the End-of-the-Year Feast, to watch the House Cup be awarded to Minerva for the second year running, and due to the attacks by the Heir of Slytherin, all Quidditch games were cancelled and the Cup was not awarded at all. I end this entry with thoughts of a somewhat relaxing summer, only to reassume the horrors of teaching come September 1st. May all my students someday experience just how tiresome children really are.


	15. Chapter 15

Wednesday, September 8, 1993

Another year is in full swing here at Hogwarts, and with it comes an emotion I have not felt in full for many years: anger. Long have I felt only disgust, mild annoyance, and emptiness, but with the onset of my anger, I have had difficulty controlling it; I brought this receptacle out of hiding because I broke my Pensieve with a particularly vicious spell. That filthy murderer Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban, and I am currently stuck with another of James Potter's malicious friends, Remus Lupin, for a fellow teacher. I can hardly say that any of that foursome were even tolerable back during our schooldays; though Sirius and James were the only ones who taunted me in the open, Remus would sit by and do nothing, and Peter Pettigrew would hide behind them and egg them on. My hatred of them has not diminished at all over the years, though it had remained dormant until the events of the recent past. I can feel it, like a poison of my own concoction burning through my veins and blotting out my peace and reason. Not only am I forced to work _with_ Lupin, but Dumbledore is also requesting that I brew the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus. Perhaps I should explain this, though it seems futile since certainly I am the only one reading this and an inanimate object is incapable of comprehension.

During my fifth year at Hogwarts, I paid special attention to the way that Remus seemed to disappear one night every month, and I soon realized that his nights of absence corresponded with the night of the full moon. From this I suspected that Remus was a werewolf. A tip from Sirius Black informed me how to get past the Whomping Willow, which led to a secret passageway to the Shrieking Shack down in Hogsmeade. I don't know why I decided to follow Remus that night; perhaps it was some morbid desire to determine if my suspicions were true, perhaps I might have wanted to catch Remus as a werewolf and expose him to all of the other students at Hogwarts to disgrace him and his friends…but anyways, one full moon found me pressing a knot at the base of the trunk, calming the tree's vicious blows and revealing the passageway. I was halfway through the tunnel when I heard it: the howl of a werewolf, followed by a guttural growl and snuffling, as though the creature had already caught my scent. I will admit that my senses left me; I froze on the spot. To my most severe regrets, it was James Potter who brought me out of danger; I will not say that he saved me since I am sure that his motives were not selfless. Rather, he must have succumbed to the guilt of exposing another student to the bite of a werewolf. As it is, I have not felt indebted to James for removing me from the path of the werewolf; rather, I am angry at him for expecting me to thank him, as he certainly requested of me afterwards. He had the nerve to ask for my gratitude after it was he and his cronies who put me in harm's way. Inevitably, I refused him, and would have succeeded in lacerating him with _Sectumsempra_, had it not been for his quick Shield Charm.

In the present circumstances, the Wolfsbane Potion, a highly advanced potion that requires extreme levels of expertise, was found to reduce the symptoms of the werewolf transformation. The werewolf can take the potion each day for a week preceding the full moon, and after the transformation, the bloodthirsty effects of the werewolf persona are reduced to such an extent that the werewolf can merely sleep the night off without feeling the need to hunt and do other such activities. There is no cure for the bite of a werewolf; once a werewolf, always a werewolf.

Thus I am angry. Not only is the man responsible for the betrayal of Lily Potter's safety on the loose, free from Azkaban, but I am being requested to aid one of the men responsible for my utter misery during my school years at Hogwarts. I would but step outside the gates of Hogwarts and hunt Sirius Black down myself to give to the dementors were it not for the fact that the dementors are currently guarding the grounds of Hogwarts. Even if he were not partially responsible for the death of the woman I still love to this day, I would personally escort him to the gates of Hell for ruining my life during our school years; his werewolf of a companion is also no exception. It burns me that Dumbledore would even _consider_ hiring Remus Lupin, even if he were not a werewolf. If you cannot see my ire nor justify it, then you really are as inanimate as an object can be. I take my leave now; I still have the shards of the Pensieve littered around my office.


	16. Chapter 16

Monday, September 27, 1993

Merlin's beard…not even a month into the school year and already the school has dissolved into complete and utter chaos, though I will not entirely attribute it to this lot of dunderheads; the presence of the dementors is driving all of us spare.

I can only knuckle my forehead in consternation at Dumbledore's latest act of idiocy – he has appointed the Grounds Keeper, Reubus Hagrid, as the new Care of Magical Creatures professor. If Hagrid is even thrice as competent a teacher as he is a Groundsman, he still will not be able to convey any knowledge to the students. As it is, the very first lesson he taught this year involved hippogriffs (of all creatures! Honestly, the purpose of that class is to expose the students to creatures that they are most likely to encounter; it is quite rare to become involved with a hippogriff, though not quite as rare as, say, a dragon or a giant). During the lesson, one of my prize students, Draco Malfoy, was viciously wounded and still bears the scars on his arm. He has been unable to function normally because of the hindrance and pain it causes, though I will admit that I enjoy allotting his tasks to his fellow students almost as much as he loves watching them slave away for him…especially if the dunderhead is a Gryffindor. The perpetrating hippogriff will stand before a jury to determine whether or not it is to be executed; while I do not doubt that the animal was merely following its instincts, I am confident that the jury will realize the danger the animal poses. I also hope that this teaches a lesson to Hagrid; I am appalled that he would jeopardize the safety of the students in so careless a manner, though, unfortunately, I am not surprised by it.

I am also rather enraged by Professor Lupin; obviously his tendency to make my life miserable has not tempered with age. A recent class of his with the third-year Gryffindors involved a boggart, and when pitted against a certain Neville Longbottom, the boggart turned into me. I would have been flattered to have produced such a reaction in my students…had it not been for the fact that the boggart-me gained a rather hideous green dress and pointed hat with a _vulture_ on it when struck with a 'Ridikulus' spell. I am now the laughing-stock of the staff here, and especially the students, even those in my own house. My blood boils at the fact that Lupin can get away with such things, even more so because he has not offered an apology for this occurrence.

Lastly, I will once again turn my thoughts to the dementors. As I stated previously, they have been stationed all around the grounds here at Hogwarts to ward off the return of Sirius Black; though I have no doubt that Black will go for Mister Potter, I also do not doubt that he would harm the other students here in order to get to Harry. While I do not care for many of these hooligans, it is my duty as a professor to place their safety second only to their education, and therefore I, too, must deal with the dementors. The air has a noticeably abnormal chill for this time of year due to their presence, and whereas I used to take pleasure in my walks around the castle grounds, I have taken to walking only through the castle so as to place a more solid barrier between myself and the dementors…being around them brings up the cold feelings inside of me related to my betrayal of Lily, starting with her death and going back so far as to when I called her that horrible word…

I shall bring this entry to its closure; I have detentions that I must attend to tonight. Not even a month into the school year, and I am already hosting detentions…

**This is the one time I'll give out this information, but this journal entry actually takes place on the day I was born...yes, I am THAT person who is so full of herself that she does something silly and superfluous like that. ^_^**


	17. Chapter 17

Saturday, November 27, 1993

At long last, I have my chance to avenge myself upon Lupin! I will finally be able to begin repaying him for the years of torment and the recent boggart incident! The full moon has chanced to rise upon a school day this month, and Dumbledore has asked me to step in and cover Remus' DADA classes as I have a rather light load of classes for Potions that day! I already know what I am going to teach those dunderheads; Remus' syllabus can go to hell for all I care, including him and his old school friends. On this coming Monday, November 29th, I am going to teach each and every one of Remus Lupin's students about werewolves, and damn any consequences that I might incur because of it. I can only hope that the students of this school are not as completely incompetent in DADA as they are in Potions and that they will be able to deduce that Remus is a werewolf himself based on the facts I will teach them.

It is now my turn to laugh at those hooligans; the Wheel ever doth rise as it ever doth fall.

However, I have some rather disturbing news . As of late October, Sirius Black somehow managed to break into the castle, nearly succeeding in breaking into the Gryffindor dormitory. He made it so far as to the portrait that hangs over the entrance to their dormitory, but luckily the owner of the portrait, the Fat Lady, did not yield to him, although she suffered grievous scratches and rents to her canvas as a result. Because of this, Harry Potter has been confirmed as Black's target, and though I do not care for the boy due to his tendency to act alarmingly like his father, I still prioritize his safety as a student at Hogwarts. It alarms and angers me that Black somehow managed to sneak past the dementors. I spoke with Dumbledore about the entrance to the Hogwarts grounds via the Shrieking Shack and Whomping Willow, and Dumbledore made the decision to dispatch some dementors into Hogsmeade so as to keep a watch out for Black there, as well. I also confided in Dumbledore of the possibility that someone within Hogwarts could be aiding Black in entering the castle; it would follow that Black and Lupin, being childhood friends, would still be working together even to this day. Dumbledore refused to believe this, though, so once again I am frustrated that I am the only one who is able to see any sense. Currently the Fat Lady is undergoing restorative treatments, and the number of dementors has been increased. The walls of Hogwarts now are sometimes not enough to block out the cold and fear they bring; I can honestly say that it makes me all the more eager for Black to be caught and given the Dementor's Kiss, so that one of the men responsible for Lily's death is held accountable, and so that the dementors may leave us here at Hogwarts in peace.


	18. Chapter 18

Monday, November 29, 1993

Well. Once again Fate is laughing in my face, just as it has done time and again throughout my life. Apparently all of the dunderheads here at Hogwarts are completely dense, thick, and brainless and cannot see the truth when it is howling at the moon. Just as I had planned, I taught Remus's students about werewolves as opposed to the prescribed lessons on their syllabi, and yet not a single one of those ignoramuses made the connection that Remus's absence corresponds with the full moon every month. I don't know which angers me more, the fact that I am teaching absolute idiots, or the fact that I cannot even plan my revenge without Fate throwing it back in my face.

Once again, I come to this entry with disturbing news. Yesterday was a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Normally I would not mention Quidditch unless it concerns the Quidditch Cup, but yesterday, during the match, dementors actually came _onto_ the grounds of Hogwarts and swarmed the arena. Professor Dumbledore was furious; I have never seen him angry, and I never wish to see him angry again. Never before have I been more terrified in my life, and it was not even me that Dumbledore was raging against. It took us a good hour to scatter the dementors off of the Hogwarts grounds and back to the perimeters.

I suppose I should take the time to mention the different patronuses belonging to the other professors responsible for helping to get rid of the dementors…as you know, my own patronus is a doe; Professor Dumbledore's patronus is a phoenix; Professor Pomona Sprout's patronus, though, uncorporeal, resembles a dog; Professor Minerva McGonagall's patronus is a cat; Professor Filius Flitwick's patronus is also uncorporeal, though it resembles an owl; Professor Avarica Graceton's patronus is a swan; Professor Thomas Silentius' patronus is a horse; Rubeus Hagrid's patronus is a dog; and Professor Lupin, though not present yesterday as he was still recovering from the full moon, most likely has a wolf for a patronus.

It unnerves me that the dementors so easily betrayed our orders and our trust yesterday; suppose they should deem it necessary to enter the castle? Then what would we do? It would be complete and utter chaos; at least yesterday, we could see where all of the students were. Here inside the castle, there are so many rooms and staircases and nooks and crannies that the students could be occupying that we the professors would not be able to keep track of all of them. I will reiterate that which I have already said: that I cannot wait until the dementors have found and captured Sirius Black so that they can leave Hogwarts in peace.

**Hey, y'all, sorry I'm a day late! I kinda lost track of what day it was...but anyways, here's my update!**

**And just to kinda clear this up, I looked up Sprout's and Flitwick's patronuses on the Harry Potter Wiki, and it said that their patronuses were uncorporeal...I'm not just making that bit up, lol.**


	19. Chapter 19

Friday, December 17, 1993

Wolfsbane. I hate the smell of it. It smells like wet musk, cold mountain air, and metal. And my whole office smells like it because of that damned potion I have to brew for the disgusting werewolf occupying the teaching post I want most.

Christmas is coming soon, and, as has been the usual since seven years ago when my mother passed, I will be spending my holidays alone. I lost track of my father after the Great Wizarding War, and I have no desire to determine his fate. As it is, though, I am anticipating the arrival of a book that I rather abandoned my frugal nature for; Helicus Aquicara recently came out with an encyclical of all potions ever created, and as there has been a spike in recent years as to the research of potions, I decided to update my knowledge in this area and therefore spent some of my hard-earned money on this expense. It is my Christmas gift to myself, I suppose, and I won't have gotten a present as dear to me since I received this very journal from Lily Evans all those years ago.

I met up with Lucius Malfoy today; I decided that it was necessary to speak with him about his actions from the previous year. To recall the events of the prior year, there was a diary that was able to project the thoughts and emotions of the Dark Lord into a physical form, and this diary had been given to Miss Ginevra Weasley in the hopes of her inadvertently resurrecting the Dark Lord through her childlike innocence and stupidity. I brought Lucius into my office to ask him how the diary could possibly have gone from his possession to the possession of Miss Weasley, wherein he replied that the Dark Lord had entrusted the diary to him. I reminded Lucius – most likely with the usual condescending tone I use when I speak with the idiot – that the trust of the Dark Lord does not extend to bandying about the objects and information he entrusts to us, for we will otherwise incur his wrath when he does return. Lucius replied quite coldly to me that at least some are trying to bring him back instead of playing puppet to the Dark Lord's enemies, and he left soon afterwards.

I am torn about the return of the Dark Lord. On the one hand, I want him to return so that I can make him suffer for killing Lily and then repay him the favor, and then I would bring him back so I could do it all over again and again and again. While I know that avenging Lily's death will make me feel better, I also know that it will never fill the hole left by her death, even if I kill him a thousand times over and even though I was not exactly close to Lily after…after that year at Hogwarts.

On the other hand, a return of the Dark Lord would once again be asking of me that which it kills me to give. I would be asked to dedicate my life to bringing the Dark Lord down, to risking my life to serve as Dumbledore's double agent, to act once again as a vessel of Fate. Since the Great Wizarding War, I have regained some semblance of control over my life in the modicum of making my own decisions, not being controlled and manipulated by the forms Fate chooses to take, whether it is the Dark Lord or Dumbledore. I just want to be left to my own devices; I do not want to feign loyalty to the man who killed Lily Evans, nor do I want to have to rely on the name of Dumbledore in order not to be defined as a Death Eater.

I just want peace.

But I know I will never find it.

**Hey everybody! I'm so terribly sorry I haven't been updating on a regular basis. I wish it could be otherwise, but this semester's really giving me a beating (stupid organic chemistry...). Once summer hits in about three weeks here, THEN I'll be updating on a regular basis!**

**A/N: Notice that I called "The First Wizarding War" "The Great Wizarding War". I figure for the wizards that the first war was kinda like WWI for us Muggles; we didn't know there'd be a second war of that scale until it actually happened.**


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